


At The Top

by popfly



Category: Schitt's Creek (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26929990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: Dan and Noah go to a State Fair.
Relationships: Dan Levy/Noah Reid
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	At The Top

**Author's Note:**

  * For [this_is_not_nothing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_not_nothing/gifts).



> One year ago today, [thegrayness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness) and [this_is_not_nothing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_not_nothing/pseuds/this_is_not_nothing) let me make their OTP an OT3, and it literally changed my life. Not just online but IRL as well. Happy anniversary to my "D fam," my lil ohana. Marshmallow, nugget, shoulder snuggle, etc.
> 
> TINN, you’re the nicest petty person I know, and you’re always ready to solve a problem or fall down a rabbit hole, and I appreciate that.
> 
> Thanks to Gray and NeelyO for validation and beta reading. Extra sparkles for you.

“You’re never going to guess what Trev just suggested.”

Dan climbs onto the mattress, intent on his phone as he knee-walks up towards Noah. Noah sticks his bookmark into his book and closes it, propping his head up on his hand as Dan sits back on his heels. He’s just close enough for Noah to reach out and skim his free palm over the rough hair and smooth skin of Dan’s thigh, up until he can wiggle his fingertips under Dan’s boxer briefs. Other than a flex of muscle when Noah hits a ticklish spot, Dan ignores him.

“What did he suggest?” Noah asks. Dan’s phone screen is so bright it reflects off the lenses of his glasses, so his eyes are obscured. But he’s got his incredulous eyebrows going.

“They’re taking a road trip to the New York State Fair, and he wants us to come down and go with them.” Dan looks up briefly from his phone, and he’s got his incredulous mouth going, too. He’s clearly skeptical about this idea, but Noah is immediately onboard.

“Let’s do it.” He digs his nails into Dan’s thigh, just enough to get Dan’s attention back on him. Dan lets his phone drop to his lap and now Noah can see his incredulous eyes as well. It’s a full face of incredulity. “Come on, you had fun at that one we went to in Wisconsin.”

The incredulity on Dan’s face disappears, and he ducks his head. Noah’s sure he’s hiding a grin, and dips his head until he can see the edge of it. If Dan’s remembering what Noah is—the underlying emotion of that whole weekend, with them dancing on the edges of what they have now, flirting shamelessly but not acting on it yet—that would explain the flush on his cheeks. Noah feels a little warmth in his own.

“I did,” Dan says, and then peeks up at Noah. “I guess it’s not a totally terrible idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” Noah says, sitting up with a new wave of excitement. “It’s only a four hour drive—” Dan goes incredulous again, complete with cocked head and wrinkled nose. “Hockey,” is all Noah says to explain, but it’s enough for Dan, who nods. “We could eat corn dogs and ride the Ferris wheel.”

Dan had ridden the one in Wisconsin with Annie, leaving Noah on the ground to hold their stuff and pretend like he didn’t want to be the one in the bucket seat with Dan, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip. Noah remembers watching the wheel stop with Dan and Annie at the top, watching the soles of their shoes swing in midair and imagining kissing Dan with a whole city spread out underneath them. Getting to make that reality would be worth a four hour drive, at least.

“You had me at corn dogs,” Dan says, and Noah laughs. He scoots forward until he can get his arm around Dan’s back, dropping kisses along his bare shoulder as Dan types on his phone, presumably telling Trevor that Noah did a brilliant job of convincing him. He tilts his head so Noah can continue his trail of kisses right up Dan’s neck until he reaches his favorite spot under Dan’s ear. “Alright, we’re going to FaceTime tonight to plan,” Dan says, and Noah feels him toss his phone aside. “Mmm, that’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Noah says, and nestles closer as Dan gets both his arms around Noah. They don’t have to be anywhere just yet, so Noah drags Dan back down to the mattress.

✨

The corn dog stand is their first stop. Despite it being 11 a.m., despite the long list of options available to them (including something called brunch on a stick that sounds promising), Dan makes a literal beeline to the corn dog truck as soon as they go through the gate onto the grounds. Noah, Trevor, and Michael dutifully follow.

The crowd is already swelling despite the early hour, but Noah guesses state fairs are just like that. It had opened at 8 a.m., after all, and there have been hours of agriculture and livestock exhibitions and competitions already. As they stand in the line that is—by Noah’s estimation—too long for corn dogs before noon, Noah slips his arm around Dan’s waist and looks out at the wide streets that stretch away from them, packed with people.

“This is fun,” he says, and feels Dan huff next to him.

“We just got here.”

Noah shrugs. It is already fun. Every part of their trip so far has been fun. The drive over the Falls, and then through the not-so-scenic farmland and forest of Northwestern New York, bickering happily over music and the speed limit; their first night in the Airbnb, drinking wine and eating mediocre takeout Thai with Trevor and Michael, sweating under the ceiling fan and laughing until their stomachs hurt, then trying to stay quiet as they jerked each other off in the shower before bed.

Even this, just standing in a line with the smell of hay and fried food thick in the air, Dan’s back warm through the thin fabric of his shirt, the sun bright in a cloudless blue sky. Fun.

The corner of Dan’s mouth that Noah can see is curled up, as if he can read Noah’s mind and agrees. Noah tightens his hand around Dan’s side.

They get two corn dogs to share, because Dan has a very detailed plan for how they will be eating their way through this fair, small plates style, and Noah hip checks him away to pay for them. Trevor and Michael share a grin, and Noah pecks Dan on the cheek as Dan grumbles but takes first pick of the two sticks.

“Where to, then?” Trevor asks. He has the booklet rolled up and sticking out of his back pocket, but they’d pored over the maps on the website the night before, so they won’t need it yet.

“Horses,” Michael says firmly, and no one offers an argument, so they merge with the crowd and make their way towards the barn.

It turns out that Trevor is a bit of a horse whisperer. Every single horse shifts around to be face-to-face with him through the slats of their stalls, nudging their noses at his fingers. Michael tries to imitate the tongue-clicking that Trevor does and the horses ignore him. A couple respond to Dan’s attempt, and more to Noah’s, but Trevor gets each and every single horse in the barn to come interact with him, without fail. Michael hangs over his back, chin on Trevor’s shoulder, and coos at the horses, and Noah sneaks in a couple of neck pats while they’re distracted communing with Trevor.

They move on to the cows from there, since their barn is right next door, and that’s much less exciting. They’re all tied up butt out, for one, just rows of swishing tails that could lift at any moment and drop a bomb. Dan picks his way across the dirty cement, dodging suspicious stains and obvious piles, nose wrinkled the whole time.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Noah asks at one point, when they’re at an intersection and can get closer to the more attractive end of the animal. The cow blinks one giant, warm eye at them, eyelashes flicking. There are handlers everywhere, and signs that warn not to pet, so Noah doesn’t, but he wants to.

“Oh, sure,” Dan says, but his nose is still wrinkled. “They don’t smell beautiful though.”

Noah can’t argue with that.

The cow barn is adjacent to something called the “Family Barn” and Michael insists they go through even though it’s clearly meant for children. There are incubators full of eggs and chicks and ducklings, pens with foals and calves and kids, all manner of baby animals. There’s a glass pen with a warming light and a big pig in it, a row of at least a dozen piglets latched on to her and nursing.

They stand back with the parents and let the toddlers press their faces to the glass. Dan leans and puts his cheek on Noah’s shoulder briefly, just long enough for the smell of his shampoo to replace the smell of barn in Noah’s nose. “Now _they’re_ cute,” Dan says, and sighs, and then wanders off to the next pen.

Half a corn dog apiece is clearly not cutting it, and Dan declares that they have “actual lunch” as soon as they’re back out onto the street. Actual lunch turns out to be several separate items that they pass around as soon as they snag a table in one of the pavilions. There are reuben rolls and fried olives, a massive pile of spiralized potatoes, something called an Italian Stallion that makes everyone snicker but is actually incredibly tasty. And of course, beer.

A massive wave of contentment threatens to smother Noah. He’s straddling a bench with his bare knee pressed up to Dan’s bare knees, a plastic cup of shitty lager in his hand, with a variety of fried food leaving grease stains on their paper boats and sweat rolling down the small of his back, and he couldn’t be happier. Dan seems to sense it, turning his head to meet Noah’s eyes. He’s grinning, one of his wide-open grins that a rare few people get to see.

“Aw,” Trevor says. It’s not teasing, it’s quite sincere, but there’s still a thump under the table like Dan kicked him. 

Noah widens his thighs and scoots closer to Dan’s side, and plucks up the last fried olive.

✨

The day continues like that—animal barn, animal barn, animal barn, food stop—until they’re out of animals to see and have made their way to the midway. Michael drags Trevor on some of the spinnier rides, and Dan buys Noah cotton candy, then watches closely as Noah licks sticky sugar off of his fingertips.

“Don’t you want to go on any rides?” Noah asks, making sure his tongue curls particularly filthily around his thumb. He blinks innocently at Dan, who scowls.

“We’re surrounded by children.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Noah asks, but he’s unable to keep the smirk off his face. Dan smacks the back of his hand into Noah’s chest.

“The only thing I plan on _riding_ ,” Dan says, the emphasis making heat swirl low in Noah’s belly, “is the Ferris wheel.”

“With me?” Noah asks, reaching out with his clean hand to grab Dan’s shirt and drag him closer.

“Hm,” Dan says, making a show of considering it. “I suppose.”

“How romantic.”

When Michael and Trevor are done with their ride on the Whizzer or the Zipper or the Puker or whatever they were just on that made Trevor look slightly green under the garish midway lights, Dan declares it Ferris wheel time. 

Noah buys their tickets, and they get into the long line. Dan has both arms looped around one of Noah’s elbows, eyes skipping over the crowd. His writer’s brain is whirring, Noah can tell, the way it always does in crowds. People watching, cataloguing. One of these people might end up a character in a future show. Noah lets him watch, and makes sure he doesn’t trip over his own feet as they move forward with the line.

It’s still early evening, the sun barely dipping towards the horizon, but the sky is getting paler, more orange. The lights are on across the grounds, and there’s live music everywhere, faint under the closer, louder carnival music playing from the Ferris wheel’s speakers. When they get to the front of the line Michael and Trevor are loaded into a green bucket, and then Dan and Noah into a blue one. As soon as the bar is across their laps Noah puts his arm up over Dan’s shoulder, and Dan’s slides close to Noah’s side.

The wheel starts and stops as people are let off and on. Their bucket swings, more distance between their feet and the ground with each stop. Dan slouches lower next to Noah until his head is on Noah’s shoulder, and Noah’s heart feels too big for his chest.

This is exactly what he’d imagined, years ago in Wisconsin, and from the moment they made the plan to come on this trip. Dan tucked under his arm, the summer air warm and humid, the sky spreading out around them. 

With one stop left before the top, Noah nudges Dan. “Hey,” he says, and Dan straightens up until he’s eye-level again. The wheel creaks, their bucket swings, and then they’re at the top. Dan bites his lips together, the sun reflecting off the lenses of his sunglasses. Noah brushes his fingers through the hair at the back of Dan’s head.

Dan’s smile pops out, and then he leans in. Noah meets him halfway, even their slight movements making their seat swing. They get a moment of full contact, Dan’s plush lips and his bristly stubble, before the wheel moves again and jostles them apart. Noah tightens his hand on the back of Dan’s head, keeping him in place so he’s easier to kiss, even as they slowly descend back towards the ground.

They break apart before they get to the bottom, staring at each other as they swing by the ride operator, the line, and back up into the air. Then Noah leans back in for another kiss.


End file.
